


love is not a victory march

by combustible



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "its for the aesthetic", Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Reincarnation, atsuhina soulmates, bokuaka are here as achilles and patroclus, god!atsumu, god!oikawa, i have no idea how to tag this, i wrote this instead of sleeping (2), mortal!hinata, once again this is in lowercase because im an arrogant bitch, tsukishima is also a god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25203673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combustible/pseuds/combustible
Summary: "what a curse, to fall in love under the careful smile of eros himself."or the au where oikawa and atsumu are gods and hinata is a mortal created by oikawa to hurt his sworn ennemy.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 14
Kudos: 106





	love is not a victory march

_who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals_

_praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts,_

_until the soul illuminated its hair_

_for a second,_

\- allan ginsberg

he's had multiple names over the centuries, some called him a god, others called him a myth, a legend, but most of them have forgotten about him as a _being_. but it doesn’t matter, because he’s still as powerful as before and if men have forgotten all about nature and poor mother earth, the will to kill and conquer is still there, building nations and destroying others.

atsumu has seen other deities rise and fall, he’s seen tsukishima rise and rise and rise, protector of geniuses and inventors who slowly became lords of the world with their grip over new technologies, kings among humans, just like alexander the great had been before them, these people had risen as creators of a new kind of creatures, named robots and artificial intelligences and it would only take a few centuries until humans would become deities themselves, kings above bionic beings.

he’s seen deities like himself rise and fall. he’s seen daichi fall on the ground, protector of wildlife, he’s seen him slowly fade as humans had started to destroy his empire. he’s seen tsukishima win over all of them, almost all of them. because war would never die. not as long as humans would live, atsumu would survive.

“enjoy their love while it lasts,” atsumu spits at the blond god, smirking as he sees his brows furrow.

the worship of technology would only survive for as long as humans would be dumb enough to be distracted by screens, but once war comes knocking at your door, with a smirk and red lightning, no phone and no computer can save you anymore. tsukishima is only a trend, a being that will enjoy its zenith before falling into oblivion.

and atsumu will smile, immobile, as he watches just another god fall. he’s survived them all, and he will keep surviving them. because humans always come back to the same survival foundations: love and war, procreation and violence, making and undoing.

atsumu has seen deities rise, he’s seen deities fall, but he’s the only one who’s survived them all. all, except for one of them. with his stupid grin and his idiot face, his perfect hair and his arrogant voice. oikawa tooru. he’s love embodied, in the way he manipulates and makes even the strongest men fall, in the way he smiles and cries. oikawa is passion, he protects those who create families and those who leave theirs behind, he protects passionate unfaithful husbands and loving mothers. he’s the feral need to mate and the sweet relief of finding your soulmate after years of longing for them.

atsumu can still remember the day oikawa’s orchestrated the fall of troy, smile plastered on his face as he watched atsumu whisper inspirations and consolations in the ears of foolish warriors. and he can still see the look on bokuto’s face when akaashi had fallen, ridiculous human hitting the ground in a crack.

this had been the moment he had _won_ over oikawa, rage taking over the half-god’s body. war had won over love, but war was nothing without love. because someone who’s never known tenderness could never understand what violence meant. atsumu had won, but only because oikawa had lashed out, murmuring sweet nothings into helene’s ears.

but even monotheists worship tooru, with their obsession over heaven, preaching love and forgiveness when in reality, they had only created more and more wars, templars slaughtering innocents in the name of a god who never even looked at them. and with that, atsumu had ended up hidden in the shadows, called all names, lucifer, satan, antichrist, he was said to be the one who would cause the end of the world, and he very gladly would end it all if he could. so oikawa had won, but atsumu was still _right there_ , ready to fuel anyone with rage, from those who got rejected by their families in the name of ungrateful gods, to those who were convinced _war_ was the right way to spread beliefs, from abused children to violent preachers, he welcomed all of their prayers, and suddenly, in the big balance of life, atsumu wasn’t on the losing end anymore.

so yeah, atsumu and oikawa _hate_ each other, and it’s only fair since they’ve spent thousands of years fighting against each other, using humans as pawns, the earth as their battlefield. no war has ever felt as good as those he had fought directly against oikawa, _love_ smirking at him from the other side of the bloodshed, hidden between frail mortals.

but in the end, oikawa had won.

he had won because if atsumu can kill all of love’s favourite creatures in the blink of an eye, oikawa can create war’s favourite creature like it’s nothing and throw him in his arms with a sweet smile that screams chaos. and atsumu might be a god but he’s still only weak when it comes to _him._

what a curse, to fall in love under the careful smile of eros himself.

but as any other human, this creature’s body would eventually crumble, wrinkle, fade under the ground before being reborn under oikawa’s masterful fingers.

he’s taken many names, hyacinth, mercutio, leonardo, paul, hinata or even philippe and allan, he’s lived many lives, among the commoners or not, sometimes remembered, sometimes not. he’s been a fisherman, a writer, a painter, a genius inventor and a professional volleyball player, and so many other things. there’s only one common curse for all of these lives: he’s linked, hopelessly tied to atsumu.

✧

there’s something really tragic in having a _god_ for a soulmate, hinata thinks when atsumu tells him who they really are, who _he_ really is, how cursed his mere existence is.

“how do you become a god?” hinata asks a bit later, and atsumu immediately wants to cry because he loves him so much. yet everything he says reminds him of how fragile his life is, of how easily oikawa can come and ruin everything again.

“by being remembered,” he’s seen it happen with akaashi and bokuto who became immortal after the trojan war, remembered in the stars, heroes of tales that are still told today, eternity granted after akaashi had wandered for centuries, alone in the meanders of the earth.

“then, i’ll be remembered in all my lives, and one day, i’ll become a god too.” and oh how much atsumu wants to believe him.

but each time the mortal falls, atsumu grieves, and he waits, hoping to see his adoration crumble, fade away, hoping to forget about the one he’s loved so dearly for a few decades before losing him to oikawa’s cruel judgement once again. but it never ends, it never stops, and each century is marked with at least another heartbreak for atsumu.

in some lives, atsumu doesn’t even tell him. he loves him silently, watches him age and kisses him farewell until next time. in some lives, he tells him everything, and he tells every crazy thing his past self has done with a smile on his face, tears rolling on his cheeks because he loves this mortal _so so so much_. but sometimes he only tells him half-truths, lies when he says he’s a merciful deity, a kind god who protects his worshippers. and the mortal believes him, adorating and pliant under his hands as he believes he’s being taken by a benevolent spirit.

sometimes, the mortal becomes so obsessed with the thought of being remembered, he becomes a politician, an inventor, and hinata even goes as far as aiming for the olympics in the hopes of being _remembered._ sometimes he doesn’t even know what makes him so avaricious for recognition, he simply fights until everybody recognises him, and atsumu is the only one who knows it’s in the hope of finally joining _him_ in eternity.

“one day, they will remember me atsumu, i promise you, and you’ll never have to lose me again,” hinata whispers the night before his last match during the tokyo olympics, and atsumu smiles sadly.

“but i won’t be able to help you this time,” atsumu answers, because it’s true. he won’t be the one setting for hinata this time, he won’t be here for him and if he loses, if he doesn’t win, then maybe he won’t be remembered, and atsumu will only be able to _watch_ it unravel in front of him.

“argentina’s team is strong, but we can win, even without the help of a god!” hinata smiles against his lips and worry fades slowly as he climbs his body in silent adoration.

but when atsumu sees oikawa enter the court in argentinian colours, with his stupid smirk and his arrogance pulsing in the stadium, he already knows how the match will end even before it starts. he prays to other gods for hinata, but no one can defeat oikawa in his viciousness.

when the last set is won by argentina on one of oikawa’s service aces, atsumu disappears in the shadows, body trembling with rage. and at the exact same moment oikawa leaves the olympic stage with his golden medal, smile wide, _remembered_ by the whole world, iwaizumi hajime _unexpectedly_ dies, his body laying at the bottom of a ravine, members dislocated.

 _suicide_. they say, but oikawa knows it is nothing of the sort. because iwaizumi was in the stadium with him on this day, not in california.

so he takes hinata away from atsumu once again in revenge. but this time, heartbreak takes the shape of another man, tall with dark hair, grumpy but kind, oh so kind, in all the ways atsumu can only wish to be. heartbreak this time, comes in the form of kageyama tobio, until death finally comes to claim hinata, peaceful and content, his wrinkles bearing the witness of his old age as he drifts away in his sleep and atsumu can only watch as the man he loves is taken away again, for the second time in this life.

and when atsumu loses hinata, oikawa thinks for a second that wrath is a really terrible thing, especially when it is carried by a heartbroken almighty being.

✧

it will be different this time, he thinks. but when oikawa appears in a bar next to him in paris, after years of not seeing each other, he knows he’s up to no good. his smile is poisonous when he sits next to him, head in his hands, eyeing the other god, provocative in his simple presence.

“what’s the worst, atsumu, knowing he will be born again and not remember you, or knowing i might never bring him back at all?” he asks casually, without even saying hello.

atsumu gulps the entire glass of whiskey in one go and throws it at oikawa’s head but he dodges it gracefully. _what a pity._ the prick has taken the appearance of a young adult, handsome in his divine glory, with chestnut hair and big brown eyes, pretty similar to the one he had a few decades ago, in japan. the one he had harboured when he had defeated hinata’s team on the olympic stage, erasing him from history, ruining his dreams of becoming something else than the mortal he was cursed to be.

“why do you keep torturing me like that?” atsumu sighs as he orders another drink.

“why do you keep killing my beloveds?”

“because you keep bringing _him_ back.”

“as a retaliation.”

“for what?”

“being a prick.”

with a yell, atsumu throws himself at the other god and his fist lands right on his jaw and he laughs when he hears a small crack. it’s a very pleasant sound, he thinks. and the knowledge that between the two of them, he’s still the strongest one physically, makes him hungry for more. they can already see the people around them starting to fidget, getting more nervous in seconds. and it won’t be long until they start to riot under atsumu’s influence.

“he’ll be reborn soon.” oikawa laughs as he massages his hurt cheek, wincing from the pain. “and i’ll take him from you again.”

“and i’ll take yours from you, whoever they are,” atsumu spits back.

with one last glance, oikawa disappears in a flash, leaving atsumu alone in the middle of a bar, mortals fighting all around him. he lashes out, powers drumming against the walls as his anger rises, blood racing towards his ears. hinata -or whatever name he bears this time- is back, only to die again. and so, the circle will keep going on, ending with only grief for atsumu and with that, a new war for humans to endure.

✧

 _he looks exactly like hinata_ , atsumu thinks.

oikawa has been particularly cruel this time, because his body is exactly the same as the one of his previous life, with orange hair, a smile so wide it eats up half of his face and innocent eyes. he seems to be around his mid-twenties when atsumu casually sits next to him on a green chair in the jardin du luxembourg, eyes lost on the fountain in front of them.

hinata looks at him for a second, blinks, and smiles softly.

“atsumu.”

“hinata?” it’s atsumu’s turn to blink, as he watches hinata throw himself at him to hug him with all his strength. he almost falls from the chair but avoids the accident as he puts his hand around the smaller man, softly caressing his hair as they hold each other in silence. and who knew war could be so _gentle_?

“i’ve searched for you everywhere but i- i couldn’t find you, i’m so sorry.”

“what-”

“i promised you i would be remembered,” hinata says with a big smile, “and i finally remember _myself_.”

warm spreads everywhere in his body, comfortable and familiar, a feeling he’s only ever known under hinata’s soft gaze. or whatever his name is in this life.

“you-”

“i’ve always- it’s been weird to _know_ but never have any proof, but now- now i know it’s true.”

and on this day, for the first time ever, it’s hinata who tells atsumu everything, he tells him everything he has ever felt, with the wisdom of someone who’s lived thousands and thousands of years, through hundreds of different lives. he tells him he’s loved him all his lives, no matter how violently they had ended, asks him for forgiveness when he says that he had loved kageyama with all his heart and atsumu nods slowly.

“maybe i will die again, maybe _he_ will take me away again, but i will remember, and i will find you, in every life, i’ll be with you.” hinata declares, and atsumu squeezes his small frame tighter against him, kissing the side of his head.

it’s ironically in _paris_ , city of love, that the balance of the earth shifts forever for atsumu. because maybe he’s won against oikawa this time, because he might take hinata away again, but hinata will come back, and they will start over, forever and until the end of times.

“maybe i won’t be a god, but i’ll be the first immortal mortal of this earth.”

and atsumu laughs, light and bright, so, so different from his usual arrogant grin.

 _softness suits him_ , hinata thinks as he watches _his_ god watch the sun set behind the tall trees, heart lighter in the knowledge he’s finally got his soulmate back, and hopefully for good this time.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yootasuke).
> 
> some additional notes : first of all i hope you liked it!! because im really insecure about **happy** endings.  
> tsukishima in this is a reference to one of the characters in american gods  
> hinata's past lives were : hyacinth (and atsumu was apollo) from the myth, mercutio in romeo and juliet of course, leonardo da vinci, paul verlaine, philippe d'orléans (go watch versailles) and allan ginsberg.  
> (also, rip iwa-chan)


End file.
